Should you cut someone off without saying anything, or should you communicate first?

Every single time, people seem so confident in their answer. One side says communication is the foundation of every healthy relationship. The person who cut you off silently is in the wrong. The other says nobody owes you closure and that protecting your peace comes first. Don’t stay after the first red flag.

Somehow we’ve managed to turn friendship into an either-or situation, and I have to disagree.

Here’s where I’m at.

We’ve lost tolerance for nuance. Life doesn’t always give you the luxury of choosing the perfect answer. Sometimes two things can be true at the same time, and all you’re really doing is deciding which truth you’re willing to live with.

For me, I’ve been on both situations.

A few years ago, a close friend of mine stopped talking to me after one situation. I disagreed with her boyfriend and I told her. She did not like that. There wasn’t some huge blowout fight. There wasn’t a long conversation where we both aired out our feelings. One day we were friends, and then we weren’t.

I remember reaching out because I genuinely wanted to know what I had done wrong. I wasn’t even trying to convince her to stay friends with me or to argue. I just wanted to understand what I did wrong.

I never got that.

Because somewhere along the way, I became the person on the other side of this conversation.

I’ve become someone who has quietly distanced herself from people.

It almost feels uncomfortable to admit because we’ve started treating silent cutoffs as if we’re being immature. Everyone has decided that emotionally healthy people always communicate, always explain themselves, and always give the other person an opportunity to change.

But what happens when communication isn’t going to resolve a conflict? What happens when you’ve already realized the issue isn’t a single behavior but a pattern? What exactly am I supposed to say if the truth is, “I don’t think I want to be friends with you because I genuinely don’t think you’re a good person.”

Am I supposed to sit across from someone and tell them I don’t like the way they speak about other people? That I think they’re entitled? That they consistently make choices I don’t respect? That every interaction leaves me feeling emotionally drained?

Nobody wants to hear that.

And honestly, I don’t want to be the person saying it.

So how do you communicate that?

Is there a nice way to say that?

Because I haven’t figured it out.

There may be situations where those conversations are necessary. But let’s not pretend they’re simple. Sometimes communication isn’t difficult because we don’t know what to say.

It’s difficult because we know exactly what we’d have to say.

That’s where I think this conversation becomes more nuanced than we’re willing to admit.

When I’m in moments of conflict, I need time to think before I speak. Unfortunately, my version of thinking looks a lot like shutting down. I don’t do it as a punishment to people or try to manipulate anyone, but I know that if I speak too soon, I’ll probably say something I’ll regret. Once I’ve made peace with the fact that a friendship isn’t healthy for me anymore, pretending everything is okay while I figure out the perfect words starts to feel dishonest.

This is where my dilemma starts.

One side says, We can’t read your mind.

The other side says, We shouldn’t have to teach another adult how to respect us.

I understand both arguments.

If I’ve never told you something bothers me, how are you supposed to know?

But if I have to explain every single basic expectation of respect before it counts as disrespect, then where does personal accountability come into play?

This is the part nobody seems to talk about.

Everyone wants to know where the line is. The problem is that everyone draws the line in a different place.

I’m also someone who believes I communicate more than people probably give me credit for.

Am I perfect at it?

Absolutely not.

Some people would probably say I overcommunicate. Other people would say I don’t communicate enough. No matter what you do, somebody is going to think you’re doing it wrong.

It’s a catch-22.

And let’s be honest for a second.

Everybody vents.

I’m sorry, but I refuse to believe there’s a single person who has never called a friend to complain about something that happened to them. We all do it. We tell stories. We ask for advice. We explain why something hurt us.

So here’s something I’ve been wrestling with.

If I’ve already told you about a situation that deeply upset me because somebody else did it…

And then you turn around and do that exact same thing to me…

Am I supposed to explain it again?

Or should you already know?

That’s a genuine question.

Then there’s another contradiction that I can’t stop thinking about.

We constantly tell people to communicate. But the second someone sends a thoughtful paragraph trying to explain how they feel, we’ve turned it into a joke.

“I’m not reading all that.”

“This isn’t Shakespeare.”

“Can you summarize?”

So do we actually value communication? Or do we only value it when it’s short, convenient, and doesn’t make us uncomfortable?

Because those aren’t the same thing.

After thinking about this for a long time, I’ve realized I don’t think silent cutoffs are automatically toxic.

I also don’t think they should ever be used as a manipulation tactic.

Those are two completely different things.

If you’re disappearing because you want someone to chase you, that’s unhealthy.

But if you’ve spent weeks or months reflecting, and you’ve realized this relationship no longer aligns with the life you’re trying to build, I don’t know that walking away is wrong.

At the same time, if you’re the person who got cut off, I think the only thing you can really control is your own behavior.

You can reflect.

You can accept that maybe the relationship simply wasn’t meant to continue.

What I’ve noticed, though, is that so many people immediately jump to blaming the other person before they ever stop to reflect on themselves.

Even when my friend stopped talking to me, I never blamed her even though I was hurt and confused.

I wished she would’ve talked to me. But I also respected that whatever boundary she had, I crossed it.

Maybe we’re just operating from completely different definitions of respect, loyalty, grace, forgiveness, communication, and boundaries.

Maybe we’ve all been handed different friendship rulebooks without realizing it.

I don’t know.

I really don’t.

All I know is that the older I get, the less black and white friendship becomes.

Questions I’m Still Sitting With

• At what point does communication become teaching another adult how to respect you?
• Can someone cross a boundary they genuinely didn’t know existed?
• Does everyone deserve closure, or do we just want it because uncertainty is uncomfortable?
• Just because I wouldn’t end a friendship over something, does that mean someone else shouldn’t?
• Are we all arguing about communication when the real issue is that we all define respect differently?

I’m just thinking out loud.